Blood Will Tell
by EvilEdna42
Summary: Remus and the Wolf aren't so very different.
1. Chapter 1

The smell of blood is the first thing he notices.

Nostrils twitching, he pauses in the act of shutting the front door and raises his head as though to test the wind.

Definitely blood, and fresh blood at that. It smells metallic; salty and rich, and there's an undertone that he can't quite place. Something which isn't being overwhelmed by the scent of blood, which is unusual in the extreme. To a werewolf, blood is all-consuming.

Cautiously, Remus Lupin follows his nose and begins to ascend the stairs to the bedrooms of Number Twelve, Grimmuald Place. Nobody should be in the headquarters of the Order, everyone should either be out working or happily residing in their own homes.

So where, exactly, was the smell of blood coming from?

It was far enough from the full moon for Remus to be quite analytical about the olfactory response he had to blood. Had it been a couple of weeks earlier, not even the wolfsbane potion would have been enough to stop him taking the stairs two at a time and burying his face in the source of the rich, tangy smell currently threatening to overwhelm his senses. As it stands now, however, he is able to calmly reason that he quite possibly wouldn't want to meet whatever is bleeding, or whatever had caused it to bleed.

Reaching the top of the stairs, he pauses again, testing the air with his mouth open slightly. Reaching the door to the first bedroom, he flings it open, wand in hand, ready to face whatever is inside.

Nymphadora Tonks. Or, to be more precise, Nymphadora Tonks lying in a huddle on the floor, robes ripped to her elbow showing a ragged wound the length of her forearm, from which the aforementioned blood is seeping sluggishly.

Hurriedly putting his wand back in his pocket, Remus crosses to her and kneels, raising her head with one hand as the other attempts to divest himself of his jacket. Finally managing that, he winds it tightly around her wound and applies as much pressure as he is able to muster. That causes her eyelids to flutter open, and he notices that her face is smeared with blood. Unable to stop himself, he touches a finger to it and sniffs; it's not her blood.

"Tonks?" he murmurs, gently smoothing tangerine-coloured hair from her forehead, "Can you hear me?"

"Wotcher, Remus," she says weakly, attempting a smile, "thought you'd be home earlier.."

"How long have you been here?"

"Since 'bout five, I think."

Remus starts in surprise; by his watch it's gone nine at night.

"What happened?" He questions gently, before shaking his head and making a noise of dissent, "Forget I asked. Can you move?"

Tonks nods, biting her lip in a futile attempt to stem the pain. Gently, Remus helps her to stand, gripping her elbow and throwing his arm around her waist when it seems that her knees are about to buckle. The wolf part of him (at least, he tells himself that it's the wolf) brings it to his attention that young Miss Tonks feels soft and fragile; and that he can feel her heartbeat fluttering close to his body.

"They hit me with the Crucio curse," Tonks mutters, breath stirring the hair close to his ear.

"And the wound?" Remus asks, doing his best to ignore the shiver that passes through his body.

"Muggle knife," Tonks replies with a catch of breath, "didn't see it coming. Old Mad-Eye'll have a fit."

Remus nods, not knowing what to say to make it better; no doubt Mad-Eye _will_ tear strips off her for letting herself be caught in this way.

"I'm going to lie you down on the bed," he informs her, and she shoots him a remarkably _impish_ kind of look.

"Keep your wand in your pocket, Remus," she smirks, as her hair slowly turns ash-blonde.

Inside Remus, the werewolf sits up and _howls._


	2. Chapter 2

Nymphadora Tonks shifts uncomfortably on the hard floor and stifles a scream. Auror training imbeds itself pretty deep, she can't even let herself scream when she knows no-one nearby wants to hurt her.

_How long have I been lying here?_ She wonders, _How long have I been waiting to be rescued?_

And doesn't that just go against the grain. Aurors don't require rescuing, they're the ones who leap in and save the day; the bold heroes with the dashing smiles and work-hardened bodies.

_Well, that's not really a good description of Mad-Eye, but I'll let that shining example slide on past_, she decides, wondering if the blood loss is making her slightly delirious.

She knows that her current predicament is about fifty percent her own fault, but she's really in no mood to place the blame on herself. If only she wasn't so clumsy, the bloody Dark Wizard would never have been able to slice her with that Muggle knife. The indignity, being brought down by such a weapon.

She shifts again, desperately wanting to wipe her face clean of the blood she can feel there, but unable to force her arms to obey. The only consolation she can find is that it's not her blood, she had managed to (quite accidentally) jam her wand into the Dark Wizard's eye socket, liberally dousing herself in his blood in the process. She had just enough power after that to apparate to Number Twelve, hoping against hope that Remus would be home.

And why was that, exactly? Why had she apparated here, instead of Auror Headquarters, where specialist Mediwitches would have been on hand? Why did Remus, of all people, make her feel so secure?

"You're a bloody idiot, Tonks," she mutters to herself, turning her hair tangerine orange in an attempt to distance herself from the pain. She stills as she hears the door opening down below; Remus must be back, only Order members can find HQ. She opens her mouth to scream and instead finds herself fighting a rising tide of blackness, only able to mutter "no" before unconsciousness claims her.

She comes to and finds Remus' face inches from her own, sniffing his blood-smeared fingers with a strange look in his eyes. Seeing that she has regained consciousness, he smoothes her hair from her forehead and smiles at her.

"Tonks? Can you hear me?"

"Wotcher Remus! Thought you'd be home earlier," Tonks attempts her most endearing grin, but it comes out more like a wince.

"How long have you been here?" he looks concerned and something inside Tonks gives a small "yippee!" at the thought.

"Since 'bout five, I think," she replies, wrinkling her forehead in an attempt to remember.

By the look on his face, she can guess that she's been lying there in a semi-delirious frame of mind for quite some time.

"What happened?" he asks, shaking his head sheepishly at his own question and continuing, "Forget I asked. Can you move?"

Tonks has a think about this and decides that she probably can. Biting her lip, she nods and allows Remus to help her up, doing her best to ignore the fact that he feels warm and reassuringly solid against her. He smells good, too, like fresh air and growing things.

"They hit me with the Crucio curse," she says quite out of the blue, anything to distract herself from things that she most definitely should not be feeling.

"And the wound?"

Ah, that's Remus all right. Ever curious, ever watchful; the guard dog of the order. Or should that be guard-wolf?

"Muggle knife," she mutters shame-faced, "didn't see it coming. Old Mad-Eye'll have a fit."

Remus nods, and she likes that he doesn't try any false cheer, no attempt to jolly her along or fob her off with platitudes.

"I'm going to lie you down on the bed," he says, and she just can't help herself. Who could, when handed a line like that?

"Keep your wand in your pants, Remus," she says loftily, turning her hair ash-blond in a devil-may-care kind of way.

The look he gives her makes her shiver all the way to her toes.


	3. Chapter 3

The problem with Tonks, Remus reflects, is that she always seems to _be_ there. No matter if she's not physically present in a room, there'll be some sign that she was; an Auror casefile left on a table (where it definitely shouldn't be) a plant pot knocked over and bleeding dry earth; a note scrawled untidily to Moody and left unfinished on a chair. When she does enter a room, she dominates it without being aware of it. True, her violently coloured hair helps matters there, but Remus has the feeling she would be impossible to ignore even if her hair was mud-brown.

In the week following his discovery of a bleeding and unconscious Tonks, she had been on his mind almost constantly. As the Wolf becomes stronger and the ever-conscientious Remus becomes weaker, he finds it nigh-on impossible to keep his mind on work and not on the sight, smell and feel of Nymphadora Tonks.

Tonks, for her part, seems oblivious to her effect on him. She greets him with the same happy smile as she always has, and is just as physically affectionate with him as she is with everyone else. If she notices that his body stiffens dramatically in response to her touch, she gives no sign of it.

"Wotcher, Remus!" The sound of her ebullient voice has Remus looking up in shock; has he actually managed to conjure her out of thin air merely by thinking about her?

"Tonks," he mutters in reply, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and offering a small smile, "you're back early.."

"Knocked meself out, didn't I?" She points to a large bruise on her forehead and grimaces. "They sent me home, said I was too preoccupied to be any use."

"Why don't you just morph it away?"

Tonks eyes widen as she thinks about this.

"Y'know, I never thought of that. I must be bloody preoccupied, at that." She wrinkles her nose (in the way that Remus privately thinks is adorable) and after a minute the bruise disappears.

"So what are you preoccupied with?" Remus asks, trying for an "I don't really care, I'm just being polite" sort of tone.

Tonks looks shifty, fiddling with the hem of her robes, "Oh, you know, Order stuff.."

Remus nods, rising from his seat and stretching out tired muscles, the Wolf inside taking the opportunity to take a deep breath and inhale essence of Tonks.

"Remus.." Tonks looks nervous, biting her lip and gazing at him through lowered eyelashes.

Remus raises an eyebrow, mouth suddenly dry.

"Um, well, you're good at all this stealth stuff, right?"

A nod, this time. He's really getting good at this non-verbal communication.

"Well, you might've noticed that I'm not so good at it and well, would you maybe help me?" The last few words come out in a rush and her gaze shifts back to the floor.

Inside Remus, the breath he wasn't aware he was holding is let go in a rush, leaving only a feeling of slight disappointment in its wake. Of course a beautiful, vibrant young woman like Tonks wouldn't really be interested in an old Were like him.

"Of course I'll help you. Any time," he says softly, turning his head away so that she can't see the disappointment in his eyes. A slim white hand with black-painted nails catches hold of his arm and he turns back to face her.

"Thanks, Remus, I really do appreciate it, you know," and with that she leans forward and places a soft-lipped kiss on his cheek. Remus is so preoccupied with his own shock he doesn't notice that her face has turned almost as pink as her hair..


	4. Chapter 4

Tonks has decided that Remus is definitely ignoring her; he seems to be going to great lengths to keep out of her way, to the extent that the normally bubbly Auror is feeling very hurt indeed, and not a little distracted. He seems to shy away from her touch, which hurts her just that little bit more than she'd ever be willing to admit. Is she really so physically repulsive to him?

It's due to this preoccupation that she manages to walk into a half-open filing cabinet and knock herself out. Moody, being Moody, decides that she is so far off of "constant vigilance" that she needs to go home. Nursing a bruise and a slightly bad temper, she walks into Number 12, Grimmuald Place and comes face to face with the object of her preoccupation.

"Wotcher, Remus!" She calls, forcing a smile and trying to inject a note of cheer into her voice.

"Tonks," he replies, looking poised to flee, "you're back early.."

"Knocked meself out, didn't I?" Tonks points at the bruise on her forehead and grimaces, "They sent me home, said I was too preoccupied to be of any use.." she bites her lip, cursing inwardly at having betrayed too much.

"Why don't you just morph it away?" Remus raises both eyebrows as he says it, and Tonks' eyes widen as she thinks on it.

""Y'know, I never thought of that. I must be bloody preoccupied, at that." Tonks wrinkles her nose (privately wishing she could grow out of the infantile habit) and watches Remus' eyes for an indication that the bruise has gone. He nods when it's disappeared, and she relaxes slightly.

"So what are you preoccupied with?" Remus asks, sounding as though he's trying hard to be polite.

Tonks fiddles nervously with the edge of her robes and toys with saying "YOU!", but bites it down and settles for mumbling something about Order business. Remus seems to accept this explanation and rises from his seat, huffing in a breath as he does so. The air around Tonks' ear is stirred slightly and she shivers.

"Remus," she blurts out, hardly knowing what she's going to say but knowing she has to keep him there, somehow. He raises an eyebrow in reply and she forces herself to go on, "Um, well, you're good at all this stealth stuff, right?"

Remus nods, looking slightly bored.

"Well, you might've noticed that I'm not so good at it and well, would you maybe help me?" Where in the name of Merlin did that come from? Tonks glares at her feet as though they're responsible.

"Of course I'll help you. Any time," he says softly, turning to leave. A spark of the devil in Tonks has her reaching a hand out to stop him, has her leaning forward ever so slightly to place a kiss on his cheek and breathe in a heady mix of aftershave and some musky scent she can't identify. Blushing to the roots of her bubblegum-pink hair, she draws away, missing the utterly dumbfounded look on Remus' face.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This one is for all my fantastic reviewers, especially TrinityDD! Cheers doll, your reviews make me SQUEE with delight! Big thanks also to Takenikos, HopeForTheFuture, Letishia, LupinLovesTonks (course he does!) and OleiMera. Big, big thanks for taking the time to review! On with the story... Which will be wrapped up next chapter x

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Remus is finding it hard to concentrate, which is troubling him more than he would like to admit. Not for the first time, he regrets agreeing to tutor Tonks in stealth.

Tonks is standing in front of him, red-faced and rubbing at her leg with a grimace, having just recently banged it hard against a doorframe. Remus sighs and Tonks winces, offering an apologetic smile.

"What I fail to understand is how you managed to hurt yourself in a _doorframe_," he begins, holding up a finger to forestall the objection he can see forming on her lips, "it's not as if you're so big you fill the space.."

"You startled me!" Tonks exclaims, scowling, "All you said was that I had to creep up on you, not that you'd be lurking behind the bloody door _waiting_ for me."

Remus is momentarily distracted by the Wolf remarking how fine Tonks looks when she's all hot and bothered; how it would be heavenly to run his tongue gently up the side of her face and collect the tiny droplets of perspiration he can see gathering there. He shakes it off with a frown and sighs again.

"Tonks, when you're trying to sneak up on someone you have to be prepared for the possibility that they may have noticed and are waiting for you." The Wolf silently points out to him that any self-respecting male would smell the divine scent of Tonks before he sees her; cinnamon and warm flesh.

Tonks scowls again, but concedes the point, "Fair enough. But it's hardly fair, 'cos you know I'm trying to sneak up on you at the moment, you're at an unfair advantage."

"Well, then, try it when I'm not expecting it. Not today, or tomorrow, or even this week. Try and catch me unawares." Remus' voice hold a distinct note of challenge, which the Wolf notices and whole-heartedly approves of. Games are good, he notes, and games with females are the best sort.

Tonks grins, her competitive spirit well and truly aroused.

"You're on, Remus," she announces, eyes sparking from mid-brown to lurid green, "you're definitely on."

When it comes, Remus is indeed caught entirely unawares. His transformation is a mere week away, and the Wolf is so intent on fighting him for dominance that his normally sharp senses are dulled. The Wolf strains and pulls at his leash, and most of Remus is attempting to hold him back; his every waking moment is devoted to restraining the feral beast inside.

Tonks, with her impeccable sense of timing, chooses this point to launch herself from the doorway on to Remus' back as he sits on his bed.

"HA!" She screams triumphantly, "I bloody well knew I could get you, Mr Wolf!" Her shout of triumph is abruptly curtailed as Remus snarls and with inhuman speed flips her on to her back, straddling her hips and restraining her by the wrists. For a second, he holds himself poised above her prone form, before the Wolf manages to escape his bonds and he lowers his head to within millimetres of hers, taking a deep shuddering breath and closing his eyes as he processes her scent. The Wolf is a creature of instinct, and he knows the smell of sexual excitement when he's near it. With a sound of satisfaction, he leans forward and gently draws the very tip of his tongue along the curve of her jaw. When she gives a small moan his eyes snap open and he draws her lower lip into his mouth, tugging gently and staring into her eyes, which look dazedly back at him. She shifts underneath him and he adjusts his legs so that he's pressed hard into her, so close that she can't help but feel his burgeoning arousal.

"Remus.." she whispers in a voice entirely unlike her own.

That one word brings Remus abruptly back to himself. He scrambles off of Tonks and stands up with a muttered curse, "Tonks, I'm sorry, you startled me.."

"Bloody hell, Remus, if that's what you do to every girl that startles you.." Tonks is trying her hardest to inject a note of jocularity into her tone and is well aware that she's failing miserably.

"I'm sorry, I should never have.."

"Didn't say I didn't like it," she mutters, looking down at the floor.

Inside Remus, the Wolf growls deep in his throat, aching to stamp his possession over the woman in front of him in the most primal way possible.

Tonks takes a step forward and places one hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart, "in fact, I wouldn't mind if you did it again.."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Sooo, this is it! The last chapter! I have to say, I'm not very good at wrapping things up. I tend to leave them hanging so that I can always revisit them at a later stage. But, for the moment, this is it. Finito. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, you're all fantastic. I like reviews, they stimulate my writing muscles… :D This one is fairly short, as I've got a really sore throat and just wanted it done and out of the way. Who knows, it may be revised at some point!

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"In fact, I wouldn't mind if you did it again.." Tonks gulps down a breath of air, slightly astounded at her own bravery, but at the same time determined that she isn't going to let Remus walk away without a fight. Under her palm, she can feel his heartbeat accelerate, and sees the same slightly wild look enter his eyes again; the look that he had in the seconds before he kissed her. She knows that the shock of that kiss, and the accompanying rush of her own desire has made her lose control of her metamorph talents, and that for the first time ever Remus is seeing her exactly as she is.

"Tonks," he says and there's a note of warning in his voice which is at odds with the look in his eyes, "you really don't want to start this. I'm not myself.."

"No?" She asks, raising an eyebrow and looking puzzled, "Who are you, then?" While she's talking she casually steps closer so that their bodies are almost touching. She can feel the heat rising from him and it makes her sway slightly, forcing her to clutch his shirt-front more tightly to keep her balance.

"It's so close to the full moon, the Wolf…."

"Seems to me," Tonks says a little breathlessly, "that bloody Wolf has a lot to answer for. You telling me that it's him that made you kiss me? You had nothing to do with it?"

"I.."

Remus doesn't have the chance to go any further. Tonks, in her rather impulsive fashion, pulls him hard against her and kisses him on the lips. She puts all her passion and zest for life into that kiss and Remus can't help but respond, giving himself over to the questionable care of the Wolf inside. He's so used to fighting the Wolf that to actually give himself over to it and allow himself to be carried along comes as something of a relief; and it's in that moment of acceptance that he realises that the Wolf is as much part of him as his heart or brain.

_One wonders,_ the Wolf muses_, why it has taken you so long to come to this conclusion._

Remus informs the Wolf that he's far too busy to waste his time on discussions on the nature of Werewolf psychology.

_Ah yes,_ the Wolf says smugly, _we've finally found a mate_.

_Yes_, Remus agrees, _we have. And we're not letting her go, either._

Tonks wonders what exactly has brought the extremely self-satisfied look onto Remus' face.

An hour later, she's wearing exactly the same look.

Finis


End file.
